


can't help falling in love

by hopefulundertone



Series: enmity of ages- past, present, future [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulundertone/pseuds/hopefulundertone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master can't sleep, and neither can the Doctor. Short, fluffy drabble with dancing-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't help falling in love

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a lil sketchy, but bear with me, I really needed doctormaster fluff.

The Master is reading in the console room on the jumpseat, under the light of a warm lamp that he assumes the Tardis provided. The Doctor has to stifle a laugh; he looks so serious. “Can’t sleep?” His fellow Time Lord glances up, nods, and returns to his book. An unfamiliar, classical song floats from the gramophone on the gilded wood table as the Master flips the page, the sound loud in the relatively quiet room. They’re currently drifting in deep space, which he figures is the Tardis taking a break for a while. Whatever it is, he isn’t going to deny her her rest, not after their last trip, which had involved a laser gun and a volcano. The doors are wide open, letting in an unspoiled view of a beautiful nebula. The Doctor sneaks across the room, quietly opening the drawer in the table as he sends a telepathic command to the Tardis. Fortunately, she complies and he removes the vinyl record from its sleeve and quickly changes the song, setting the nurse down with practiced ease. When he turns, the Master is frowning at him, but as the first notes filter through a tiny smile quirks his lips and he takes the Doctor's proffered hand. “Humour me, Master. I can’t sleep either.”

"Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you," the gramophone croons as they dance. The Master’s hand is hesitant on his back, but as the song progresses, he grows less shy, and they dance, the Doctor’s eyes alight with joy and the Master’s with wry amusement. It’s been too long since they danced together, but it feels completely natural and he pulls the Master closer without thinking and brushes his lips across his forehead. A multitude of colours from the nebula filter into the Tardis, staining the coral struts purple and blue and gold and red. The Master’s face is less guarded than he’s ever seen it in this regeneration, and as the song slowly fades, he reaches up to cup the Doctor’s sharp chin, pulling him down and wrapping his arms around the taller Time Lord, kissing him chastely, softly.

Other songs begin to play, the volume turned down as the Doctor settles in beside the Master, who has returned to his book, perching on a comfortable-looking sofa that had definitely not been there before. This time, the Doctor gently removes the book, instead guiding the Master to lie on his lap. He cards his fingers through the Master’s hair, slowly, reassuringly, until the blond Time Lord’s breaths begin to even out, deepening and lengthening. The Doctor shifts around a bit, finding a suitable position before relaxing. The feeling of the Master’s soft hair and warm weight is the last he feels before sleep overtakes him.

****  
  



End file.
